


Come Back

by mymilieutoo



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky likes to show up unannounced, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Some feels, mention of past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 06:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2098428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymilieutoo/pseuds/mymilieutoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second time he showed, Bucky had been agitated. He’d backed Steve against the wall, asking - no, demanding to know why he dreamt of touching Steve. Why he woke knowing the taste of Steve on his tongue, feeling the heat of his skin like a brand.</p><p>Thx to theladyingrey42 for the beta. ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back

Steve tightened his grip on the keys, the metal warm in his palm. He could stand outside his apartment all night, turning the what ifs over and over in his head, or he could go inside and see what happened.

What if he showed up tonight, as if drawn from thin air and selfish wishes? He could already be inside, waiting on Steve. It’d been almost a month, about the time he should appear.

 What if he didn’t show? Just because Steve made headlines with the latest Avengers news, that didn’t automatically warrant a visit. Even if it had in the past…

_“You’re going to get yourself killed. Watch your six or get someone to watch it for you.”_

_"_ _You could watch it.”_

_"That’ll definitely get you killed.”_

_"_ _I don’t believe that. Stay.”_

Of course that’s when he’d run.

Steve stared at his front door until the number plate blurred into one black smudge. He made himself stick the key in the lock and turn. As soon as he entered his apartment, he knew he was alone. He also knew he had to ignore the heavy rush of disappointment.

After dinner, he washed up and changed into worn pajama pants, the air warm enough he didn’t sleep in anything else. He read an old favorite to keep his mind busy, turning the pages until his eyes drooped closed.

He woke with the book still in his grip and a metal hand around his throat.

“You sleep too deep. Didn’t even flinch until I was already on you. You should get a dog.”

“How am I supposed to take care of a dog?”

Bucky wasn’t choking him, didn’t squeeze at all, but his hand was there, every time, like a warning. A warning of what, Steve still wasn’t sure.

“Figure it out, but you need something. If I can slip in here, anyone can.”

Steve stared up into the painfully familiar face. Even with what looked to be three days’ worth of scruff and hair that remained too long, even with the haunted distance in his gaze and hard expression, the rest was exactly the same. The strong jaw and soft lips. The wide, dark brow and sky blue eyes. Steve could sketch him with his eyes closed, that’s how well he knew the lines of Bucky Barnes.

But that was his appearance. All that went on in Bucky’s mind, Steve could only guess.

"You aren’t just anyone,” Steve tried.

Above him, Bucky shifted. It was barely a breath of movement, yet Steve could tell. He could always tell.

Bucky dipped his chin, his face softening a fraction, that dangerous, promising glint in his eyes. “You don’t know who I am.”

“Yes I do.”

Bucky squinted and worked his jaw like he was thinking; the natural reflexes and body language of Bucky Barnes hadn’t changed. Not in ninety some odd years. Not in a million.

“Maybe you do.” He moved his hand so he cupped the back of Steve’s neck, just the thumb lined up across his trachea. Shifting again, he settled, denim clad thighs tightly straddling Steve’s. He leaned down so that when he spoke, his breath was a warm wash of air against Steve’s lips. “Tell me again. Tell me how we used to do this.”

He didn’t have to explain what _this_ meant. Bucky had asked about _this_ the second time he’d shown up in Steve’s apartment. The first time he barely spoke. Steve had done all of the talking and Bucky just stood there.

The second time he showed, Bucky had been agitated. He’d backed Steve against the wall, asking - no _demanding_ to know why he dreamt of touching Steve. Why he woke knowing the taste of Steve on his tongue, feeling the heat of his skin like a brand. How he could imagine doing things with Steve, _to_ Steve, yet never anyone else? He heard Steve’s moans in his sleep, knew the slack of his jaw after he came, the bitten-lipped bliss of his smile. “Why? Tell me why I know that face!”

“We…we did those things, Buck. You were…we were more than best friends.”

Bucky had shoved away from him, eyes wide. “It’s not in any records,” he’d muttered.

Of course, what Bucky knew, he’d gathered as intel, paper facts and the mist of rumors, like any good spy. But no one else knew the truth of Steve and Bucky.

“It was…it’s complicated.”

Bucky had gone quiet for what felt like an eternity. Then he’d nodded once before slamming back into Steve, lips first, in a punishing kiss.

In hindsight, Steve should’ve pushed him away. He should’ve encouraged Bucky to communicate with words, but sometimes even Captain America was weak.

He hadn’t been able to push Bucky away, not when he still kissed the same. The same delicious shift between rough eagerness and sensual taunting, the same full lips. Waves of the past had crashed over into the present; tears like needles welling up and Steve had squeezed his eyes shut and welcomed the flood.

“Tell me,” Bucky repeated from above him now, rolling his hips forward and back again.

Steve had no will or way to hide his reaction. Bucky ground down on him, tilting his head when he bumped against Steve’s erection, his face relaxed. The old Bucky would’ve smiled, equal parts affection and smug satisfaction at the effect he had on Steve. Now, Bucky didn’t smile. He never smiled. There was only the lack of a frown.

“I…You know. I told you before. We were…” Steve clenched his teeth together, trying for restraint as Bucky bent and nuzzled against his neck, long hair tickling his jaw. Bucky’s breath was hot in his ear, and then the faintest touch of lips near his Adam’s apple as Bucky moved his thumb.

“Lovers.” The word left Steve in a rushed exhale.

It felt so good to say it. Every time was a challenge, like the words had to be pulled from him, yanked free of the fear. Still, it got easier each time.

Bucky leaned back up to look down at him, eyes brighter than before. _“Were?”_

Steve swallowed hard. Was it too late to lean on past tense? He should’ve insisted, or resisted rather, the third time Bucky came to him. Instead he’d buried his face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, Bucky a heavy, writhing weight above him, rubbing and thrusting and breathing in each other’s air until they’d come in their pants like teenagers. Steve had been given all he’d hoped for and almost all of what he wanted. With Bucky in his arms, begging Steve to remind him, to make it real, help him feel…he’d been powerless.

He wasn’t completely selfless either, no matter what people thought. This, what the two of them had –then and now – was his, and Steve wasn’t letting it go. Not again. Not ever.

He eased his hands onto Bucky’s thighs, slowly sliding his palms up until he held Bucky’s waist. He’d learned the hard way he couldn’t just reach for or grab Bucky the way he once did. Steve telegraphed every movement, always making his intent clear.

Steve shook his head, gaze never wavering from Bucky’s. “Not were.”

Bucky moved his hand. The cool, unforgiving metal sent a tremble through Steve as Bucky dragged it down his chest. “No. Not were,” he repeated. He leaned forward, anchoring his weight with a hand beside Steve’s head, and pressed his lips to Steve’s. The gentle taunting, just before the need took over.

“Steve,” he whispered, and then Bucky pushed his way in, lips demanding and his tongue seeking.

Steve opened to him, curling his fingers into the worn denim. He braved sliding his hands up, over the swell of Bucky’s ass to rock and push him down, grinding their cocks together harder.

Bucky shuddered and gasped above him, before sliding his legs back, letting Steve take his full weight. “Steve,” he said again, a hard sucking kiss against Steve lips.

“Yeah, Buck. It’s me.” He opened his legs, strong enough to maneuver Bucky between them and push his hips up. Bucky’s hard-on dug into his groin and Steve shifted so they lined up. Perfect fit as always, no matter how their bodies changed. It’d always been enough to get them off before, when time was short and their need thick. It was all it took before and he didn’t think tonight would be any different.

“I know you.” Bucky kissed and licked a hot path over his throat, before nipping at the skin just below his ear.

Steve moaned, thrusting up into him, grabbing Bucky’s ass to keep a harsh friction. That place on his neck always had driven him crazy. Bucky knew it and that’s why he’d always done it. Whether or not he remembered now, was a question that’d have to wait.

“I know this. I know how this feels.” Bucky rubbed his cock against Steve’s. The denim and soft cotton could easily be forgotten, but then Bucky was tearing at Steve’s waist band, tugging it down until his cock sprung free between them. “I know the scent of you.” He took the length of Steve in his flesh and bone hand, stroking down, staring at him in wonder.

Steve was going to tell him that he knew too. He knew everything there was to know about Bucky Barnes and they’d figure this out. They’d figure everything out together and, somehow, they’d fix it.

Then Bucky’s mouth was on him, a hot, wet snare that never failed to rob Steve of all words.

Steve cried out, hearing it as if a world away. Bucky moaned around him and Steve felt it all the way down to his bones. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a moan to match Bucky’s. He touched Bucky’s hair, the sound of lips on skin beautifully obscene. He dared to thread his fingers through the hair on top, like he used to, and Bucky nodded.

Steve lifted his head to tell Bucky…something. Anything. To make sure this was what he wanted, to say something to make the situation slot correctly in his mind. Instead he watched as Bucky licked his way down Steve’s length and up again, swirling his tongue around the top before swallowing him whole.

“Buck.” Steve let his head fall against the pillow.

Bucky released him with a wet pop, working him with a slippery hand. “I want this,” he said.

And that was it. All it took to make it okay, as if he knew the path of Steve’s thoughts. Then again, if anyone would...

Bucky stroked and sucked, stroked and sucked and it was a matter of moments before Steve’s body tightened, his climax before him like a light shining on the horizon. It was all too familiar, something he’d wanted too long, needed too desperately. “Oh God…Buck.” He dug his fingers into Bucky’s scalp and Bucky clung to the backs of his thighs, just as needy.

Steve came with his eyes clenched shut, his ass pulled tight. He came and came and wanted to ride that feeling forever. Float on it because everything was okay. It was just him and Bucky…and, at least for a moment, nothing hurt.

He settled, breathing heavy, warm metal once more against his skin.

“That’s it.” Bucky stroked his chest with is metal hand. “That’s the face I remember.”

Steve realized he lay there, eyes still closed, lips parted in bliss. He blinked up at Bucky, at his eyebrows pinched together. Bucky had unbuckled his jeans and stroked himself, furiously, on the edge of coming.

“No.” Steve roughly pushed his hand away without thinking. But Bucky let him. “Let…let me. Lay back.”

He urged Bucky onto his back without physically moving him.

“I…I’m close.”

“I know. But I want to, Buck. I need this too.”

Bucky lay back, cautious, but he let go of his swollen cock, trust etched in the way he laid his hands by his side.

Steve rose beside him, maintaining eye contact as he licked at the wet head. He stroked Bucky with one hand, the other on Bucky’s thigh just to keep his hands from shaking. Because he still tasted and felt the same. Bucky’s neck still strained with pleasure, he still threw his head back and made that low, rolling noise in the back of his throat when he got close.

Then he touched Steve’s face, rubbing along his hollowed out cheeks with the back of his knuckles.

“Jeez, you’re beautiful.” The flash of an accent long gone.

Steve met his gaze again, something vast and consuming swirling inside him.

Bucky came with his hand cupping along Steve’s jaw and throat, watching, following the movement as if committing it to memory.

Steve leaned back up, swiping a hand across his lips. He moved in, but let Bucky close the distance to kiss him. He held Steve’s face in his hands and kissed him until they had to break for a breath. Steve lay down beside him, careful not to pin him in or confine him. He didn’t slide under Bucky’s arm like he used to. Instead he settled beside him, rolled in, quietly watching.

They lay like that until the sky turned more midnight blue than black.

“Stay.” Steve spoke the word so softly, he wondered if he’d only thought it.

Bucky turned, rolling his body toward him. He studied Steve’s face and Steve felt it as surely as any touch. “I can’t. You know I can’t. Not yet.”

He rolled away and stood, and it took everything Steve had not to reach for him, to grab him and hold on, keep him close and bind them together so he’d never lose Bucky again.

“But.” Bucky turned back to him, the dim light revealing what might just be the slightest smile. “I promise you I’ll come back.”


End file.
